Marx Brothers

If only the Baltimore Opera had had Groucho Marx and Margaret Dumont around, maybe we'd still be having arias sung from the stage of the Lyric every few months. Alas, it wasn't meant to be; no rich dowager or rapscallion promoter showed up to bail the opera out at the last minute. But this weekend at the Charles, the Marx Brothers' "A Night at the Opera" will show what could have been. Has there ever been a comedic force to match the combined might of the brothers Marx? Maybe Monty Python in its prime, but there ends the very short list.

If only the Baltimore Opera had had Groucho Marx and Margaret Dumont around, maybe we'd still be having arias sung from the stage of the Lyric every few months. Alas, it wasn't meant to be; no rich dowager or rapscallion promoter showed up to bail the opera out at the last minute. But this weekend at the Charles, the Marx Brothers' "A Night at the Opera" will show what could have been. Has there ever been a comedic force to match the combined might of the brothers Marx? Maybe Monty Python in its prime, but there ends the very short list.

A Marx Brothers revival has long been overdue. Let's hope the Charles' presentation of their masterpiece "Duck Soup" helps kicks one off. It's a good thing that the Charles plays old movies more than once a week. The punning effrontery of Groucho and the dialect comedy of Chico come so fast and mock-furious that even their target audiences in the 1930s had to attend the films several times to catch all the jokes. Each brother of the brothers (except game, banal Zeppo) could also be a sight gag unto himself.

A Marx Brothers revival has long been overdue. Let's hope the Charles' presentation of their masterpiece "Duck Soup" helps kicks one off. It's a good thing that the Charles plays old movies more than once a week. The punning effrontery of Groucho and the dialect comedy of Chico come so fast and mock-furious that even their target audiences in the 1930s had to attend the films several times to catch all the jokes. Each brother of the brothers (except game, banal Zeppo) could also be a sight gag unto himself.

Sixty-five years ago today, a man took a hard look in the mirror and walked away from the family business, giving up a job that was providing him with unthinkable riches -- a job that had the potential to make him richer still."

Duck Soup may be the most timeless, and most prescient, movie comedy ever. Without a doubt, it's one of the funniest. Nowhere is the Marx Brothers' fabled disregard for all things proper better displayed. The four brothers - this is the last film featuring Zeppo, who would soon decide against life as a straight man - were always zany, and their blatant disregard for the conventional ever on display. But alone among their movies, in this send-up of politics, governments and the hapless hypocrites who run them, the Marxian world-view makes perfect sense.

Harry Crane, 85, co-creator of Jackie Gleason's classic 1950s sitcom "The Honeymooners" and comedy writer for Red Skelton, the Marx Brothers, Bing Crosby and others, died in Beverly Hills, Calif., on Tuesday of cancer.

Me? I'm watching the All-Star Game tonight.If you're not, may I suggest the Marx Brothers at 10 p.m. on The Disney Channel? Or if you're up for an all-day celebration, check out TBS, where they're celebrating Christmas in July with a day full of holiday movies and series episodes."

Arthur Marx ends his memoir, "Son of Groucho," by saying: "If it was hard to get out from under his shadow, it wasn't his fault. A giant's shadow often falls a great distance."Indeed, the younger Marx has made a mini-career out of writing about his father -- two books of memoirs and two plays (co-written with Robert Fisher), "Minnie's Boys" and, more recently, "Groucho: A Life in Revue," which has opened the season at Totem Pole Playhouse.Les Marsden, who stars in and directed Totem Pole's production, has also made something of a specialty of the Marx Brothers.

Do you need a special reason to watch an entire day of the Marx Brothers? I thought not."The Nanny" (8 p.m.-8: 30 p.m., WJZ, Channel 13) Can Fran get on "Jeopardy"? Both Alex Trebek and presidential brother Roger Clinton show up in guest spots. CBS."Melrose Place" (8 p.m.-9 p.m., WBFF, Channel 45) Julie Newmar, who was doing evil on "Batman" while Heather Locklear was still in diapers, appears as Julie Newmar. Putting these two gals together on the same screen should be fun. Fox."The Ultimate Lie" (9 p.m.-11 p.m., WBAL, Channel 11)

A 5-year-old boy revealing the little-known connection between superheroes and the Hollywood writer's strike. A 94-year-old writer, with a resume dating back to the Marx Brothers, explaining why he supports his union. And a look at what the cinematic world would be like if professional writers weren't around to create it. Hollywood's writers might be on strike, but that hasn't stopped their creative juices from flowing. True, their efforts aren't being channeled into episodic television or movie scripts.

Two of the latest Baltimore Playwrights Festival offerings share an admirable trait - neither falls into the naturalistic trap of so many modern American plays. Unlike those standard-issue kitchen-sink dramas or sitcoms, one of the new festival productions takes place in hell, and the other - a quartet of one-acts - features everything from talking birds to the physical incarnations of the elements in a T.S. Eliot poem. Of the two productions, Steve Klepper's Hell, Inc., at the Audrey Herman Spotlighters Theatre, has the virtue of a simpler - and more coherent - premise.

Duck Soup may be the most timeless, and most prescient, movie comedy ever. Without a doubt, it's one of the funniest. Nowhere is the Marx Brothers' fabled disregard for all things proper better displayed. The four brothers - this is the last film featuring Zeppo, who would soon decide against life as a straight man - were always zany, and their blatant disregard for the conventional ever on display. But alone among their movies, in this send-up of politics, governments and the hapless hypocrites who run them, the Marxian world-view makes perfect sense.

Deceit. Murder. Mayhem. Lust. Perversion. Even Elvis. What could be better for summer reading? You'll find all this -- and more -- in the latest crop of thrillers and mysteries. Combine Thomas Harris with Agatha Christie as interpreted by the Marx Brothers -- that about sums up Death From The Snows (Welcome Rain Publishers, 248 pages, $24.95), Brigitte Aubert's second installment in her creepily hilarious mystery series featuring the world's most disabled sleuth. Though a bomb blast in Ireland has left Elise Andrioli blind, mute and mostly paraplegic (her left hand works)

The Open-Air Film Festival in Little Italy has been another big success this year, according to an organizer of the summer-long event. "We've gotten off to a very good start," said Tom Kiefaber, owner of the Senator Theatre. The festival kicked off with a program of short films by Martin Scorsese, and "raised a few eyebrows," Kiefaber said, "but generally we're getting a good response." The Senator sponsors the festival with the Little Italy Restaurant Association (LIRA). Tonight's offering, "Moonstruck," was a huge favorite last year, so Kiefaber advises filmgoers to get there early.

"Groucho: The Life and Times of Julius Henry Marx," by Stefan Kanfer. Alfred A. Knopf. 446 pages. $30. Who remembers Groucho Marx? Is there anybody left in America who can sing "Lydia, the Tattooed Lady" from memory? I can, but I'm on the far side of 40, which makes me a prime member of the target market for Stefan Kanfer's excellent new biography of the most verbally dextrous of the four Marx brothers. In the early '70s, when I was in high school, Groucho seemed utterly contemporary; indeed, he was something of a cult figure, in part because his anarchic comedy seemed well suited to the political tendencies of the day. You could see "Duck Soup" and "Horse Feathers" on pre-cable TV, as well as syndicated reruns of "You Bet Your Life," the game show that had put Groucho back in the spotlight in 1950 after a decade of fumbling.